


Monday Blues

by dragonofdispair



Series: Whiskers on Kittens [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cats, Alternate Universe - Human, Other, Platonic Relationships, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofdispair/pseuds/dragonofdispair
Summary: (Cat AU) It’s February, and Elita’s queen cat is going into her first heat of the year. Jazz’s only interest is getting away from the noise, and The Hands is too busy dealing with her two males to keep track of the little escape artist. It’s not like Jazz is going far with that cast on his leg anyway...right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started the J&P kitty AU while doing my daily Christmas prompts. Those stories can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8719240/chapters/20194015) and [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8719240/chapters/20496115) You probably don’t have to read them to understand this, as long as you know that Jazz is a silver tabby who’s (usually) allowed outside but right now is injured, Prowl is a purebred siamese, and they are pair bonded.
> 
> Beta'd by FHC_Lynn

“Haven't you a family?”

“One for every day of the week. Point is, none of them have me.”

              — Lady and Tramp, _Lady and the Tramp_

.

.

.

_mmmmrrrrrrRRRROOOOWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!_

“Stop that,” Jazz meowed at Prowl, who soundly ignored the younger cat to let out another loud yowl. He was answered by an aggressive, equally loud, yowl from another part of the House. Smokescreen didn’t seem to care, the big, sleepy, lazy thing, but Jazz’s hackles went up. “Prowl! Stop being so _boring_ and come sit and do nothing with me!”

A third cat, a female, whom Jazz had never seen but knew lived in yet another part of the House was making answering yowls. Those yowls always meant fighting. Bluestreak and Prowl _never_ fought. But they were yowling and if they got too close to the door that separated them from each other, they growled and hissed and tried clawing each other through the crack. That didn’t happen much. The Hands had taken Bluestreak and locked him away from the door that led to the female, and Prowl was sticking close to _that_ door, rather than the one that led to the other male. Yowling. ALL THE YOWLING!

JAZZ DID NOT LIKE!

Prowl scratched at the door, behind which the female hid, and let out another ear-splitting howl.

_mmmmmrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!_

With a low growl, Jazz folded his ears back. “Prowl…?”

Again he was soundly ignored as the yowl was answered by both Bluestreak and the female.

Well fine, Jazz was hoping to catnap with Prowl and the Dog in front of the fire today, but Prowl was making horrible noises and being horrible and also _boring_ so Jazz was going to have to find something else to do.

Speaking of the Dog.

The heavy thing wrapped around his leg was still a hindrance, but Jazz had adapted. Even unable to move his leg, he could sprint _almost_ as fast as he could without it. Racing a little clumsily across the room to reach the little magic door through the big door at the same time as the Dog was easy. Jumping up to wiggle out before the swinging flap closed completely behind the Dog was harder and the heavy thing on his leg got caught briefly as the door swung closed. Jazz struggled — _letgoletgoletgo!_ — until the door released him.

The door swung closed right as the Hands came into the room to deal with Prowl, letting him through the double door to the in-heat female beyond.

It didn’t matter. Jazz had escaped the House! For the first time in _days — weeks_ even — Jazz was freeeeeee!

Elated, Jazz spent a few minutes just running around the yard. Whooo-hoo!

Eventually, hunger intruded on his joy. No way was he going back in the House though. Bluestreak was still screaming his head off, clearly audible even in the yard. Prowl and the female had quieted some, but the _smell_ they were making. Again, Jazz was getting the message loud and clear. Yuck. She was flirting and Prowl would start a fight if any other cats came close. Jazz didn’t mind getting into fights for hunting territory or choice scraps of trash, but he literally could not understand the attraction of a female cat. Especially when she was in heat. Then she was just bitey and violent. No playing or hunting. No fun at all. Just screaming and clawing and biting.

Prowl and she were going to start screaming again soon, and Jazz wanted to be _far away_ when that happened.

The heavy, draggy thing on his leg meant he couldn’t go over the fence, so Jazz slipped out of the driveway to the front of the House and set off through the yards. He scrambled for purchase on a low rock wall between two yards and slithered beneath a metal fence between two more.

He saw birds scratching at the snow where some human had left seeds and crouched to stalk them, but the noise the heavy thing made startled them into flight. He tried _again_ to lick it off but it was useless. He’d need to get food from somewhere else. It was also all sorts of cold and snowing and nothing like his previous plans of him and Prowl curling up together in front of the fireplace. Even if he caught a bird, he’d still be _cold._ Fortunately, Jazz knew _just_ the place to go for both food, warm fireplaces _and_ other cats to curl up with!

Nothing for it. He had to cross the street.

A bit more cautious of the big noisy things than he had been before losing a fight (he hadn’t even been trying to _pick_ a fight; he’d just been crossing the street and it attacked him for _no reason._ So _RUDE!_ ) to one and getting stuck with the heavy thing on his leg, he looked both ways to make sure the street was empty before darting across it.

These houses had tall fences around their yards so Jazz stuck to the sidewalk.

Two more streets later, he reached his destination.

The lights were still off, so Jazz settled onto the little rug on the porch next to the warm door to wait for the human to come back. His fur had picked up some wet and yuck from the snow and mud and industriously he licked it away. Dry fur was warm fur. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Jazz!” the human meowed. Jazz recognized the name this human called him and gave a loud _FEED ME_ purr. He didn’t understand anything the human continued to meow. Generally Jazz didn’t like being picked up, but this human insisted. Okay fine. Jazz was tired anyway, from dragging the heavy leg-thing around. He decided the human was allowed to carry him, for a short time. Jazz made the _FEED ME_ purr even louder.

He didn’t stop until the human deposited him inside — where it was warm! — at empty the food bowl for the resident fluff fluffs and filled it. The big, fluffy black fluff fluff called Inferno perked up his ears and came running over, sniffing _Jazz’s_ food.

Jazz hissed, folded back his ears, and hit the big fluff fluff on the head as he tried to climb up on the table next to him. _“Mine.”_

The fluff fluff tried to look bigger to scare Jazz away, but Jazz was not intimidated. Jazz had won a fight with a mastiff! Jazz had survived a fight with a car! Jazz was _not_ afraid of a big fluffy fluff fluff! He hit him again.

“Owww…” Inferno meowed.

The other fluff fluff, Firestar, who Jazz liked playing with but still wouldn’t share his food with, laughed as she came out of hiding. “You know better,” she meowed at Inferno. “Jazz doesn’t share.” She jumped up on the table, out of Jazz’s immediate reach, and he hissed at her, fluffing up his fur to look bigger. She looked distinctly unimpressed, and Jazz let out a loud hiss-yowl to warn her off. “Oh don’t be so melodramatic,” she said with a dismissive flick of her tail. “I’ll wait until you’re done with the bowl.”

She sat down and started grooming herself and Jazz calmed. With one final meow of “Mine!” he bent back down to eat.

The human came back then, meowing into a buzzy box. “...blah, blah... here, Elita. Safe, cast and all…blah, blah, blah...” Whatever. Food! “blah... fine. He can stay until… blah blah...Sure.” It stopped meowing to the box and petted Jazz’s tattered ears. “Trouble maker.”

Jazz meowed up at it. _Aren’t I just so cute? You_ **_really_ ** _want to just feed me and love me!_

It moved away, shaking its head and Jazz immediately pinned his ears back, hissing, and bonked Inferno on the head for trying to sneak bites from _his_ food while the human was distracting him. _“Mine, fluff fluff.”_

“Oww… But I’m _hungry.”_ Inferno meowed.

Firestar just laughed and continued grooming her tail.

When Jazz was done, he left the bowl (Empty! Only fluff fluffs left food in the bowls!) and wandered over to where the human had a big box of paper-things it was fussing with and putting up on the shelves.

Jazz loved the paper things when they first came out of the boxes. They always smelled so _interesting._ Like paper, yes, but also like humans and insects and dust and sometimes other cats or dogs. More, they smelled like _other places._ Jazz liked the smell of _other places_ the paper things had when the human took them out of the box. Which meant sniffing them right out of the box.

After a few days on the shelves, the paper things lost the scent of _other_ and just smelled like _here,_ with this human and Firestar and Inferno and were no good for anything. Except it was fun to knock them off the shelves. THAT never got old!

The human laughed softly. “Here,” it offered the rectangular paper thing and Jazz sniffed it, purring. He rubbed his cheeks against it — ooo that felt good — and it smelled like Jazz had been in that place with the paper thing. The human laughed again and put the paper-thing on the shelf before reaching into the box for another one. It offered it to Jazz to sniff.

That was good, but the human was _so slow,_ so Jazz decided to hurry things along by jumping into the box. Yay! ALL THE PAPER THINGS!

Jazz sniffed and rubbed and rolled around on the paper things until the human had taken the very last one out of the box and put it on the shelf. That left Jazz in a box — a glorious, glorious _box_ that already smelled like paper and _other_ and Jazz. It was the perfect place for a catnap.

So he took one.

He was woken up by Inferno being _so rude_ and scratching the outside of _Jazz’s box_ while he peeked in over the top. “Can I come in?”

Jazz considered. Inferno wasn’t Prowl, but he was quiet and warm and fluffy, and hadn’t Jazz come here so he could catnap with other cats who weren’t being so boring and yowling? He had.

“Only if you lick my ears clean,” Jazz stipulated.

Inferno braced against the side of box and jumped, but instead of going up and over the side, he pulled the box sideways. Jazz let out a loud howl as he was unceremoniously dumped on the floor and tumbled into Inferno.

“OW! Ow! Ow!” Jazz growled with a hiss, batting at the big black fluff fluff’s ears. He started to pounce; if Inferno wanted to play, Jazz would show him how to play _right!_ “Clumsy cat!” A human giggled and Jazz froze.

It was one of the strange humans that were always coming and going and pawing at the paper things. Watching them. Jazz immediately composed himself, couldn’t quite with the stupid thing on his leg. “I totally meant to do that!” He swished his tail, then sat down to lick the fur back into perfect order on it. Of course he meant to do that! He couldn’t clean his tail if he was stuck in the box. “I didn’t want the stupid box anyway.”

Of course not. Why would a cat want to hang out in a stupid box when there was a lovely cat bed right next to the fireplace to sleep in? Inferno started to follow but Jazz hissed. “No. I’m not sleeping with you!”

One of the humans looked up from its paper thing and cooed at Jazz. Jazz let it rub his ears briefly, but he was not to be deterred. He was going over to the fireplace to finish his nap!

The human, however, had different plans. It wrapped its hands around his middle and started to pick him up! That was NOT ALLOWED! Jazz twisted yowled and left a deep set of scratches on its arm. It howled as it dropped him. OW! That made the heavy thing on his leg hurt.

The human next to it laughed and pointed to a flat thing with a cat on it that looked like Jazz and some squiggly marks. “Blah, blah… bitey.”

Jazz darted under a nearby chair — he had to wiggle a bit to get the heavy thing on his leg underneath with him — and hissed at the humans. The Hands was the only human allowed to pick him up! Well it and a few others. But only when he was too tired to walk!

“Agreed,” purred the shy, high strung tabby cat named Red Alert who was always hiding and even Jazz didn’t often see. “I _hate_ being picked up too.”

“Stupid humans,” Jazz swished his tail in irritation. “Just because they’re bigger does not mean cats aren’t perfect in every way. We don’t need to be carried!”

“Agreed.”

“I’m just going to finish my nap here!”

“No,” Red Alert hissed. “This is _my_ hiding spot! Go find your own!”

Jazz pinned his ears back and hissed back. “I can sleep wherever I want!”

They growled and they hissed and they showed off their teeth and their poofed up tails. Around the chair humans started to make high-pitched, worried sounding vocalizations. Jazz ignored them. He was NOT going to let Red Alert chase him from _his_ chair!

The heavy thing on his leg was good for just _one_ thing, Jazz thought. It didn’t hurt at _all_ when Red Alert tried to bite it.

.

.

.

Elita shook snow off her pink snow coat and hurried into Chromia’s Used Bookstore exactly thirty seconds before it closed. She shook her head at the photograph of four cats (Jazz was glaring at the camera from his place of being still _very_ securely held by Chromia; Red Alert was only marginally more cooperative) next to the door, warning that the silver and red tabbies got bitey when strangers picked them up. A post-it note saying _Don’t let the injured cat out!_ covered the sign’s usual statement that silver tabby was allowed to leave the shop. “I’m here! Please tell me Jazz didn’t escape you too.”

Chromia looked up from where she was sorting and reshelving magazines. “Hey. I was waiting for you. Don’t worry, our little troublemaker is still here.” Chromia laughed, brushing dust off her blue sweater as she stood. Elita sighed in relief.

“I’m sorry,” Elita offered. “I still don’t know how he got out. I’m guessing the dog door. He knows it opens, and I was just too busy dealing with… everything this morning to keep track when the dog let himself out to pee.”

“No worries. It happens. And we love him here. Even if I had to break up a catfight between him and Red about noon.” Elita groaned as Chromia laughed again. “Nothing serious. He’s best friends with everyone right now. Come on.”

Chromia led the way through the ever-changing shelves and stacks of books to the open reading area with the glassed-in gas fireplace. Snuggled up into an overlarge cat bed, positioned right where the fireplace blew heat out into the air, were four cats, all squished into the bed and as happy and relaxed as could be. The big black long hair took up almost as much space as the two red cats: a red tabby and an abyssinian-like one Elita couldn’t currently distinguish from the tabby. Jazz was easily found, a silvery puff of fur wedged between the black cat and the other two, cast sticking straight up in the air out of the furry pile.

“When’s that come off him?” Chromia asked quietly, as though trying not to disturb the peaceful scene of kitty bliss.

“Another three weeks, pending an X-ray to make sure the tendon’s healed up okay,” Elita answered just as quietly. “Then,” she continued, letting an ironic note enter her voice, “Ratchet says he can start relearning to walk.”

Chomia burst out into giggles.

“Thank you again,” Elita said, “for taking care of the scrappy little fuzzball today.”

“We kinda love him here,” Chromia assured. “That cast got him soooo many extra treats from patrons. He sure knows how to milk _I am cute and injured so give me a treat_ for all it’s worth.”

“I know what you mean. All right, fuzzball,” Elita said louder and was soundly ignored by the snoozing silver tabby.

The reddish tabby with the scottish fold ears bolted from the kitty pile with an aggravated hiss though, which certainly woke the rest of them up. The other three cats gave out various meows, yowls, and hisses at being disturbed. Before everyone’s sleepy agitation could turn into real aggression, Elita reached in and grabbed her cat by the scruff.

Jazz hung from her hand, giving her his best set of pitiful blue _why do you hate me so?_ eyes.


End file.
